Noah Daniel

At Silver Lake High, everyone knew Noah.

The kind of person whose name is mentioned too often—in the stands at games, in conversations at lockers, in late-night text messages. The captain of the football team. The school's favorite. The guy who always brought noise, laughter, expensive perfume, and the feeling that he owned the entire city.

You never tried to become a part of his world.

People like Noah existed apart. Too loud, too handsome, too self-assured. You saw him in the hallways between classes, sometimes catching his gaze—brief, piercing, as if he were trying to remember where he'd seen you before. But that was where it ended.

Until that Friday.

The party was held in a huge lake house, where the parents had gone away for the weekend again. The music blared so loudly against the walls that the glasses in the kitchen rattled. Someone was swimming in the pool fully clothed, someone was already arguing upstairs, and the air was thick with alcohol, sweet smoke, and someone else's perfume.

You were standing in the kitchen, scrolling through your phone more out of boredom than interest, when you suddenly felt the urge to go outside—away from the noise and crowds.

It was colder in the backyard. Quieter.

That's where you saw him.

Noah sat at the edge of the pool, completely alone. Without friends. Without his girlfriend. Without his usual smile that made half the school go crazy. His elbows rested on his knees, a cigarette slowly smoldering in his fingers.

He looked... tired.

You were about to walk past when he suddenly looked up.

“Be careful,” he said quietly when you almost touched the bottle near his leg.

For a few seconds, he just looked at you. Not like a team captain looks at some random girl at a party. Different. Too intently.

Then the corner of his lips twitched in a faint smile.

• I didn't think you went to places like this.

And for some reason you wanted to answer him.